


Caught in a Web

by ClockworkDragon



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Eventual Sex, Feelings, M/M, Violence, like alot of them, morally gray characters, questionable comic book tech and science, rooftop heart to hearts, spider-man au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-01 20:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15151397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDragon/pseuds/ClockworkDragon
Summary: Neil Josten is Spider-man. He's had his powers for eight years and has protected New York for five. It's a lonely life but Neil tells himself that the work he does makes up for it. Then he meets Deadpool, and though the merc insists he doesn't care for the company of Spider-man, suddenly Neil doesn't feel quite so alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This fic is inspired by [ @requiemofkings' ](http://requiemofkings.tumblr.com) andreil spideypool art. I also got inspiration from the Andreil Week 2018 prompts, but this fic probably won't be done by the end of the week OTL  
> Thanks [ Idnis ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idnis/pseuds/Idnis) for betaing <3

They first met each other on a miserable October night. The sky over New York had turned a dangerous gray earlier that evening, and as soon as Neil had crawled out his window to start his patrol, the gathered clouds had released their burdens all at once. The rain was heavy and cold enough that Neil could feel it even with the thermal lining in his suit. By midnight, the storm had worsened. Heavy winds blew the downpour in unpredictable patterns, and Neil struggled to latch onto anything with his web shooters. When he did, the wind flung him about, and Neil felt much like a leaf that was desperately clinging to the branch of a tree.

Overall, it was a shitty night to be New York’s friendly neighbourhood Spider-man. 

But even the nasty weather couldn’t keep the city’s criminals inside. It was the opposite actually. As Neil swung haphazardly past one of the small docks nestled on the southern border of Brooklyn and Queens, he noticed an unusual amount of black-clad personnel milling about. Using his momentum, Neil let go of his web and fell towards a nearby rooftop with a good view of the dock. He landed lightly out of habit, even though he didn’t exactly need to be quiet since it was impossible to hear anything over the rain. 

Neil crouched on the rooftop and surveyed the people below. He frowned in annoyance when the rain made it difficult to see clearly. He tapped the control panel, hidden in his mask above his right ear, and the screens in his lenses came to life. He adjusted the HUD to sharpen the image, and he zoomed in until he could see everything on the docks relatively clearly. And oh, yup, those were definately guns.

Now that he could see better, it was easy to spot the dozen or so armed people clustered below. They were clearly lookouts, and Neil wondered what they were guarding. There was a small warehouse a block up the road, probably used for storing shipments in between deliveries. A truck was parked at one of the loading areas. Perhaps they were smuggling drugs or weapons? 

Just as Neil was about to swing over to the warehouse to investigate further, there was a muted shout from one of the men below. 

Neil watched as four of the men broke away from the group to move towards the large pier. There, about a half-mile out in the bay, was a small ship making its way through the trembling waves. Someone aboard was flashing signals with a red light, and one of the men on the pier was doing the same. Neil didn’t know who these men were or what cargo they were bringing in, but it probably wasn’t legal judging by the hour and lack of city dock officials overseeing the entire procedure. 

He needed to get closer, find out what was on that ship, and take these guys down.

He leapt off the roof and shot a web at an adjacent lookout tower. He swung down and landed behind some large wooden crates. The boat was approaching the pier now, and Neil took a few pictures of the scene with his lense camera for evidence. Once they were docked, a crewman said a few words to the guard, and after a short radio conversation, he signalled to unload. Neil still couldn’t make out what they’d said, but he hoped the pictures would be incriminating enough. He just needed a shot of their cargo.

A ramp was secured to the ship, and in a few minutes, neil caught a glimpse of what the men were smuggling. It wasn’t guns, or drugs.

Women, the youngest of which probably no older than 15, were being ushered off the ship. They were bound at the wrists, and some of the older women showed signs of rough handling. Neil grit his teeth in rage. He could guess what these girls were brought here for, and he vowed to see every last human trafficker here put behind bars. 

He managed to get two pictures and send an alert to the police before all hell broke loose.

Before he could move to take down the armed men, there was the sudden sound of gunfire in the night. Neil whipped his head in the direction of the sound in time to see one of the lookouts drop to the ground. Chaos erupted as the men scrambled to find the attacker. Shots began to ring out again, but all Neil could see was rain and darkness.

The girls screamed, and Neil’s attention focused on the three guys herding them back onto the boat. There was no way he was letting them escape. 

Neil ignored the unknown attacker for the time being. They hadn’t aimed for the girls, so he was willing to bet that they weren’t the target. If the attacker was a competitor trying to steal the girls, then Neil would deal with it once he secured the victims.

He leapt from his hiding place and shot the closest guy in the face with his webs, then immediately dropped to kick his feet out from under him. The man collapsed and Neil knocked him out with a swift kick to the head. His senses alerted him to the bullet an instant before it fired towards him, but it was enough time for him to backflip away. While still airborne, he shot a web at the gun and pulled it out of the shooter's hands. He landed and swung the web in a wide arc, the gun crashing into another man’s head behind him. 

Neil jumped forwards and punched the man who had shot at him. They exchanged blows for a few seconds, but Neil was too experienced to be brought down by someone of his skill level. The man hit the pier with a thud, and Neil stuck his hands to the wood with two quick bursts of webbing. Unfortunately, the two minutes Neil had spent fighting had bought the traffickers enough time to load the girls. The ship’s turbines roared as it tried to pull away from the pier. 

Neil wouldn’t let it. He shot web after web at the side of the boat, and soon there was a massive net of webbing that connected the boat to the pier. 

Neil swung himself onto the boat as another man took aim at him, and Neil kneed him in the nose in greeting. He threw the man over the side of the ship and caught him with a line of webbing before he hit the pier. Neil stuck the other end to the railing of the ship and watched the man dangle upside down. 

“Hang tight for a bit!” he shouted, before he ran to clean out the rest of the crew. He almost managed it.

As Neil emerged from the helm after taking care of the captain, he saw the last trafficker on deck holding one of the girls as a shield, a gun pointed at her head. Neil immediately raised his hands.

“Easy there, buddy. You really don’t want to do that.”

“Fuck you, spider-freak! You cost us big time,” the man spat. “And your partner killed my men! Why shouldn’t I kill her?”

The girl in his arms squeaked as he shook her. Neil tensed but couldn’t risk moving recklessly.

“I don’t have a partner. Whoever that was, they weren’t with me,” Neil shouted over the rain.

“I don’t give a shit. But if you want this little lady to live,” the man tapped the gun against her head, “you’ll let me sail out of here without any trouble.”

“Are you insane? You’ll never make it out of the bay by yourself. Your men are all dead or unconscious. Just come quietly,” Neil reasoned.

“I’m fucking telling you--”

The man’s words cut off at the same time his head exploded. The girl screamed and jerked away, losing her footing on the wet deck in the process. Neil caught her before she could fall, and he turned his back to the mess of gore and pushed her head into his chest so she wouldn’t have to see.

“It’s ok now, I have you,” he said. The girl trembled and sobbed into his suit. Neil held her close and looked around at the surrounding rooftops and alleyways. He kept on high alert for the anonymous shooter even as he continued to comfort the girl. After a minute, he could hear the sound of sirens approaching.

“What’s your name?” he asked the girl.

“E-Emily,” she sniffed.

“Ok, Emily. I’m Spider-man, and it’s great to meet you. You’ve been so brave up until now, I’m very proud. But I need you to keep being brave.”

Emily looked up at him with frightened, serious eyes. 

“The police are almost here, but there is still a bad man on the loose. I need to catch him but if I stay here, he’ll get away. Can you tell the police what happened to you and show them where the other girls are being held?”

Emily looked unsure for a moment, but then she steeled herself and gave a determined nod.

“Great. I know you can do it. Just look out that way and wait for the police,” Neil pointed to the road leading into the pier. “Don’t turn around, ok?”

Emily nodded again. Neil patted her head and stood up. The sirens were close. 

“Goodbye, Emily. If we ever meet again, I hope it's under better circumstances.”

Neil raised his hand to shoot away, but Emily stopped him.

“U-um, Spider-man? Thank-you.”

“Anytime.”

She couldn't see him smile, so he settled for a small wave. He activated his web shooter, and then he disappeared into the rain.

\--------------------

After nearly 10 minutes of searching the buildings around the dock, Neil started to think the shooter had escaped. But he refused to give up so easily. He had questions that needed answering. 

If he hadn’t been looking for it, he might have missed the splashes of fresh blood on the window frame of a shabby looking apartment. The rain couldn’t wash it away because of the overhanging roof. Upon closer inspection, Neil found more drops scattered on the fire escape that ran up the side of the building.

The blood could be completely unrelated to what had happened on the docks, but Neil doubted it. He stuck himself to the brick wall and inched his way down towards the window. He peered inside, but saw nothing but a dark room sparsely decorated, and seemingly unlived in. He narrowed his eyes, looking for clues.

Ha! There was more blood on the carpet. Neil dropped onto the fire escape silently. He tried the window, and finding it unlocked, cautiously pushed it up. He stepped inside. As soon as he had both feet on the carpet his senses went wild. He leapt just in time to avoid the slash of a katana.

Neil stuck himself to the ceiling and flinched as the glass of the window shattered from the impact of the sword. 

“Nimble little fucker, aren’t you?”

The man who had spoken, who had tried to slice him in half, stood against the wall like he had expected for Neil to crawl through his window. He wore a red and black bodysuit, had a concerning amount of knives and guns strapped to him wherever they’d fit, and despite his height, he looked like he could pick Neil up and throw him across the room with little effort. 

He was also bleeding from a gunshot wound in his shoulder.

“Jealous? Maybe you wouldn’t have been shot if you moved quicker,” Neil quipped. 

The stranger wore a mask similar to Neil’s own. It covered his entire head, and made it impossible to see his expression.

Neil’s senses buzzed again, and he dropped to avoid the knife thrown at him. He did not expect for the stranger to predict his reaction and lunge to stab him as he fell. It was instinct that saved Neil. He shot a web at the stranger and yanked him forward, which messed up the timing of the attack. Neil ended up on top of the man and he used his back as a springboard to launch himself to the other end of the room.

“Not bad,” the man said as he righted himself. 

“Were you expecting an easy kill?” Neil snapped.

The stranger tilted his head.

“I’m not trying to kill you.”

“Oh, so this is how you always act when you meet people? You must have some interesting friends.”

“I don’t have friends.”

Neil snorted. “Can’t imagine why.”

“Do you always talk your enemies to death?”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

“Pity,” Neil said. He shot a web at a table lamp and swung it at the man. The katana cut through it like butter. No matter, because the move was a distraction anyway. Neil lunged while the man was looking away. He went for a kick to the chest, but connected with nothing but air. The stranger had sidestepped the attack without even looking at Neil.

_ Crap. _

The mistake cost him a knee to the ribs, and Neil went tumbling to the ground. He was on his feet in time to catch the man’s wrist as he brought the katana down towards Neil’s face. Neil twisted harshly and heard the man grunt. The sword dropped to the ground. Neil put his other hand on the man’s upper arm, pivoted, and flipped him over his back. He hit the floor with a thud. Neil had no time to celebrate, because he looked up to find the barrel of a gun trained on his face. 

“What a cheap move,” Neil muttered. 

“It is no fault of mine that you don’t carry guns. Now back away Spiderboy.”

“Its Spider- _ man, _ ” Neil growled. 

“I don’t care. Move or I put one between your eyes.”

Neil reluctantly let go and moved away. He watched the stranger sit up and stretch, as if he just finished a satisfying workout. Neil remained tense as the man kept the gun aimed at him. He was holding it with his injured arm but he didn't waver in the slightest.

“I thought you weren’t trying to kill me,” Neil said.

The man shrugged. “If I was, you’d already be dead.”

Neil opened his mouth to argue, but then he thought of the dock. He had no idea someone was lurking in the shadows. He could have been shot in the back. And when he ignored the danger to protect the girls, he had known there was a chance that he could have been hit then too. But no bullet had come.

“So what are you trying to achieve exactly?”

“I’ve already achieved it.”

Neil frowned. Then it all clicked into place.

“The girls. You came to rescue them.”

“You aren’t as dumb as you look,” the stranger said.

Neil ignored the jab. “Who are you?”

The stranger graced Neil with another prolonged silence. It lasted long enough that Neil resigned himself to not getting an answer.

“Alright, great talk,” Neil snarked. “Since you helped me tonight and are sporting a bullet wound as a result, I won't turn you into the police for murdering like 9 people.”

The man flicked the gun in his hand, “You make it sound like I don't currently have you at gunpoint.”

“If you wanted that gun to be a threat, you wouldn't have gone through the trouble of telling me you don't want me dead.”

“I never said I don't want you dead. I said I'm not trying to kill you.”

Neil waved his hand in the air dismissively. This conversation was going in circles and he had a city to patrol. He made a show of boldly walking to the shattered window. He had one foot on the fire escape but paused before going forward. Unable to help himself, he looked back at the man. 

The gun was back in its holder and the man was studiously ignoring him. Neil watched him poke at the bullet wound, and was surprised to see that the blood had stopped flowing.

“You should see a doctor for that.”

The stranger looked up.

“Why are you still here?”

“Fine I'm leaving. God, and people say I’m rude,” Neil muttered.

He shot a web up at a nearby building and swung out into the rain without a backward glance. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I just wanted to say thank you so much for the enthusiasm in regards to this fic! I read all your comments (even though I barely answered any sorry) and they made me super happy <3  
> Hope you all like chapter 2!!

The second time they met, Neil was in the middle of fighting a warehouse full of crack dealers. He’d been tracking them for weeks and tonight he would finally put an end to the entire operation. The only problem? There were way more goons than he’d initially predicted. What should have been an easy take down had turned into group target practice, and the bullseye was on Neil’s chest. 

Even with his senses, Neil had to stay on his toes to avoid the fifty guns trained on him. He was nothing but a blur of red and blue as he leapt around the warehouse, knocking out criminals where he could, but for the most part just trying not to get shot. He’d managed to dwindle his opponent’s numbers down to ten when the large metal doors to the warehouse smashed open.

For a second, everyone paused to look at the intruder. Neil was surprised to find that it was the same man from the dock bust a month ago. What the hell was he doing here?

“Is this a bad time?” the man drawled.

One of the men, the boss if the number of guards surrounding him was any indication, let out a harsh laugh.

“It’s a fucking excellent time,” he exclaimed, something like relief in his voice. “Hurry up and kill spider-man!”

The order came so far out of left field that Neil almost lost his grip on the ceiling. The man was working for the drug lord? Neil tensed in anticipation. He knew from their little fight in the apartment that the stranger was no amateur. If Neil had to take on the dealers and the stranger simultaneously, he might not make it home unscathed.

“Why would I do that?” 

The drug lord's jaw went slack, and even Neil was surprised by the question. Normally his enemies didn’t need a reason to have a go at him. Then again, Neil still wasn’t sure if the stranger  _ was  _ his enemy.

“Why would you―I’m paying you to kill for me!” the boss shouted. Neil rolled his eyes at how stupid the guy was for confessing that bit of information in front of the city’s superhero.

“You’re paying me to take out your competition, which I’ve done,” the masked stranger said.

God, Neil really needed to come up with a name for him. Maybe Red? Kind of lame compared to what he normally would come up with, but it would do for now.

“There was no bug involved in our contract,” Red continued. “He's not my problem.”

“Then I’ll pay you for this too!”

Red tilted his head as if he was considering it. Neil held his breath.

“You can't afford the bill.” Red took a step forward and half the guns in the room jerked towards him. It seemed the members of the drug ring were unnerved by his presence. Red kept moving like the guns were less threatening than a litter of day-old puppies. He stopped a few feet away from the boss, who was sweating profusely now.

“My money.” Red didn't phrase it like a question. After a tense moment where no one moved, the boss finally lifted a hand to signal one of his men. A moment later, a large duffle bag was pulled out of a nondescript crate and tossed at Red's feet. He squatted down to unzip it and check the contents. Apparently satisfied, he closed it up and swung it over his shoulder.

Neil couldn't decide a course of action. On one hand, he had a group of dealers to beat up and gift to the cops. On the other hand, he just watched Red admit that he killed at least one person, and then get paid for it. That made him some sort of hitman/mercenary, and murder should put him higher on Neil's list of baddies to take down. Plus, the fact that Red was still in New York meant he probably wasn't just passing through that rainy night they met. The last thing Neil needed was another resident killer in his city.

But. 

Like he thought before, Red was no second rate gangster wannabe. He held his own against Neil, and trying to attack him now would probably be ill advised.

As if sensing his thoughts, Red turned to look up at him. Neil couldn’t see his expression beneath the mask, and his body language was relaxed and neutral; but somehow Neil knew that Red was waiting on him, daring him to make a move. 

Neil had never been good at backing down from a challenge, and he was a little too good at picking fights he couldn’t win. Hell, he really wanted to punch Red in the face just to prove that he could. 

By some miracle he managed to restrain himself. But just barely.

Again it was like Red could see right through him, because the moment Neil decided to let him go, Red raised his hand to his temple and gave Neil a cheeky two-fingered salute. Neil gritted his teeth and watched Red swagger out of the warehouse with a bag of blood money swinging from his shoulder.

Like a spell breaking, the room came alive again. The attention Red commanded upon his arrival was turned back to Neil as soon as he was out of sight. 

Neil found himself bouncing from wall to wall again. His annoyance was a powerful motivator though, and soon he had everyone incapacitated and webbed to various surfaces. 

He wanted to get some information about Red out of the boss, but Neil must have kicked him too hard in the head because the guy was out cold. Shit.

He sent in a tip to the police then got out of there. From the roof of the warehouse, Neil could see skid marks from what looked to be a motorcycle that hadn't been there when he arrived.

Logically, he knew Red was long gone. Neil still swung around half the borough trying to catch a glimpse of a motorcycle on the roads, or a red-clad figure slinking along the rooftops.

\--------------

Neil was sitting on the roof of an office building, legs dangling over the edge, eating a hotdog. His mask was bunched up over the bridge of his nose because even after five years of keeping his identity a secret, he was still paranoid about being discovered. Even though he was twelve stories in the air, he never knew who could be watching him. 

He had just taken his last bite when he heard it. It started with the roar of an engine and the squeal of hot tires on asphalt. Neil wiped his hands on his thighs and stood up. He surveyed the streets below him, which were crowded with pedestrians and tourists since it was a Saturday afternoon. It didn’t take him long to spot the speeding black van that was tearing its way up the boulevard, and the lone motorcycle it appeared to be pursuing.

Neil dived off the building and swung towards the vehicles to intercept them. The good news was that the sensible citizens of New York were pretty used to these situations by now; many of the cars on the road were pulling over to avoid getting caught up in the chase. The bad news was that a group of tourists were too busy taking in the sights as they crossed the road to notice that they were in the direct path of the van.

People started to shout warnings but there simply wasn’t enough time. And Neil was still a few hundred feet away. He wouldn’t make it in time to help them.

Suddenly, the motorcyclist slammed on his breaks. Neil, along with hundreds of New Yorkers, watched in horror as the bike came to a dead stop in the middle of the street, only to be rammed into by the van. The crash made the van skid out of control and it smashed hood-first into a streetlight barely yards away from the group of tourists. In the next second, Neil reached the scene and he landed right by the van. 

“Is everyone alright?” he asked the tourists. They let out a chorus of frightened replies, assuring that they were unharmed. “Ok, please get off the street and stay close. The police will be here soon.”

They hurried onto the sidewalk, clutching each other tightly. A few of them had their phones trained on him, but Neil ignored the pang of unease he always felt when he was being recorded, at being observed so obviously. He needed to focus.

“Everyone needs to clear the block,” he yelled. “If you’re a witness please find a cop when they get here. In the meantime, stay on the sidewalks or in surrounding buildings.”

Turning to the van, he wrenched the mess of metal that used to be the driver’s door off its hinges and checked on the people inside. There were only two; the driver and a passenger sitting shotgun. They were both armed, and very much unconscious, but the airbags had prevented any serious injuries. Neil dragged them out onto the street, quickly disarmed them, and stuck them to the crosswalk light with his webs. He threw the guns into the van.

Then, Neil ran up the boulevard to the crash victim. The sight was gruesome, the body a twisted mess surrounded by a pool of blood. But that wasn’t what made Neil suck in a harsh breath.

The victim was wearing the same bodysuit and mask as the man he had let escape two weeks ago. The victim was Red. 

What was he doing here? Why was he being chased? Why did he decide to essentially commit suicide instead of trying to escape?

Who the hell was he?

Neil knelt down by the corpse. He could hear sirens in the distance and figured he didn’t have much time before CSI closed off the street. But he needed to know this man’s identity. He needed to see his face because somehow he knew that the body would go unidentified, just another Doe to bury. It was stupid, because this man was definitely not on the right side of the law, but still Neil felt like Red didn’t deserve to die like this; alone and with not even a name to put on his headstone.

Red would remain nameless, but Neil would at least see his face, and remember it with all of the others he failed to save. 

He reached for the mask and got his fingers around the hidden seam when there was a wet cracking sound. It was like the snapping of bones, like the grind of knuckles hitting the edge of an opponents jaw. 

Without warning, Red's right hand, the hand previously broken at the wrist, shot up to grip Neil’s forearm with bruising strength. 

“ _ What the fuck, _ ” Neil cursed, his voice high with disbelief and nerves. He watched with morbid curiosity as Red’s broken body began to put itself back together. The entire process was disgusting to watch. Bones snapped back into place of their own accord, joints rotated back into position in ways they shouldn’t be able to, and flesh, exposed by the rips in the suit, knit itself back together with wet, squelching sounds. 

As soon as the last bone was in place, the man took a large gulp of air.

Neil was at a loss. He had no idea how he should proceed after witnessing such a horrifyingly bizarre full-body reconstruction and apparent resurrection.

Neil quickly glanced around them and saw that the police had arrived and were beginning to close off the area. Some of them were gesturing towards Neil and speaking frantically into their radios. He could just manage to make out the words.

“I’m telling you that Deadpool is right in front of me! It looks like Spider-Man has him pinned but we still need a squad from Mutant Control down here ASAP. If he gets up there’s no telling what’ll happen.”

Hold on a minute.

“You’re a mutant,” Neil whispered.

The grip on his arm tightened.

“The...tourists?” Deadpool rasped. 

“What about them?”

“Useless bug,” Deadpool said, as he angled his head to look around Neil’s crouching form to the crosswalk where police and EMTs were clustered around the group of shaken tourists. The rigid line of Deadpool’s body relaxed at the sight.

Then it dawned on Neil. Could it be that Deadpool had put the brakes on in the middle of a car chase to save the tourists? The impact of the motorcycle and truck caused it to slow and skid off course. But the idea was crazy, especially since Deadpool was a literal mass murderer. Why would he care about civilian casualties? Then again, Neil had only witnessed Deadpool kill other criminals; first the traffickers, then members of a rival drug ring. Hell, that first night Deadpool practically said his goal had been to rescue the abducted women.

Neil couldn’t place him. Who was Deadpool and what was he trying to achieve? 

He needed answers.

“Grab onto me,” Neil said.

“Excuse me?” If the situation had been different, Neil might have laughed at how baffled Deadpool sounded. However, as Neil glanced over his shoulder to track the position of the cops, he noticed them forming loose ranks. Technically, they weren’t on good terms with Spider-man. Sure, Neil was hailed as a hero by the people of New York, and generally the cops let him do what he wanted since he kept crime at bay; but spider-man was a vigilante. He didn’t answer to any structured form of law enforcement, which made him rightly dangerous and unpredictable in their eyes.

They probably wouldn’t appreciate what he was about to do, and his next actions may very well put a permanent wrench in his relationship with the police from now on.

Oh well, he never much liked cops anyway.

“I’m getting you out of here,” Neil hissed urgently. “That will be more difficult for me if I need to carry you. So put your arms around my neck and hold on.”

“And why should I believe that you aren't going to just swing me over to the uniformed pigs?” Deadpool asked, which was wasting precious time but also a fair question. 

“Right now that’s not going to happen. I want answers, and I can’t get them if you’re in prison. Besides, I’m not sure prison is where you should be,” Neil said truthfully. “So are you coming or not?”

Deadpool didn’t move for a few long seconds, and Neil could tell the police were getting antsy from the lack of movement between them. They were probably wondering why Spider-man hadn’t wrapped Deadpool head to toe in webbing and handed him over like a freaky cocoon offering.

“Interesting. You have my attention, Spider-boy,” Deadpool said as he looped his arms around Neil’s neck, “Let’s see how long you can keep it.”

Neil didn’t have the time to sort out if having Deadpool’s attention was a good thing or not. He slid one arm under Deadpool’s newly healed knees, gasping as Deadpool’s fingers dug themselves into his back harshly. Neil understood his discomfort at being so close to a potential enemy. Despite having lost a few of his weapons when he got hit by the car, Deadpool still had numerous knives on him that could be effortlessly stabbed into Neil’s body. Or Deadpool could just snap his neck.

They were playing a dangerous game of trust, but Deadpool hadn’t tried to kill him yet, so Neil was going to take the chance.

Once he had Deadpool secure in his arms, he stood abruptly and without warning, and immediately started sprinting down the street. It must be quite the spectacle, seeing local hero Spider-man run like hell away from the police while carrying a recently undead criminal bridal-style along the boulevard. 

“This is your fucking escape plan?” Deadpool growled. 

Neil didn’t answer him. He could hear when the cops snapped out of there shock. All at once there was shouting and mayhem. He heard a couple doors slam, followed by the screeching of tires. He needed to move.

“They’re gaining on us,” Deadpool warned. “Unless you suddenly have super speed, I’m going to end up in jail at this rate. Maybe you’ll join me after this little show of rebellion.”

Neil didn’t feel like telling him that he did in fact have super speed, or at least  _ enhanced  _ speed. He  _ could  _ outrun the cars behind them, but running wasn’t the goal. They needed to disappear, get off the roads, and they needed to do it quickly before any choppers showed up.

“Hold on,” Neil said, right before he leapt on top of a semi truck that had pulled to the curb with most of the traffic on the street. He cleared the top of the truck in two powerful strides then used all of his strength to leap off the back. He managed to get twenty feet into the air, and before gravity could bring him back down, he shot a web at the nearest building and used his falling momentum to swing up even higher.

He had to release his hold on Deadpool in order to continue to swing up the buildings, but the man’s arms were like iron around Neil’s neck, their grip never faltering.

It was a little tricky to account for the added weight, especially when Deadpool was just dangling there and not using his body to help steer their momentum; but when Neil told him to wrap his legs around Neil’s waist so as not to throw them off, he was shut down with a firm no. After a few minutes of frantic swinging through the city, Neil lost sight of their ground pursuers. Quickly, he swung them up onto the roof of an apartment building.

As soon as they were on solid concrete, Deadpool flung himself away from Neil as if he had been burned. He stood a decent ten feet away from Neil, hands shaking. Neil gave him space to calm down. He watched as Deadpool patted along the sides of his suit until he pulled out a cig and lighter. Without so much as a glance at Neil, he undid his mask enough to roll the bottom half over his nose, much like Neil had done earlier that day. The revealed skin was pale and unblemished. Deadpool placed the cigarette, who’s paper was partially stained with blood, between his lips and lit up.

He looked like a wreck. Despite having healed his mortal wounds, Deadpool was still soaked in blood. His suit was tattered and torn in places from where the asphalt had ripped it. Several of his pouches and gun holsters were missing, probably picked up as evidence by the police back at the crash scene. 

Countless questions queued themselves on the tip of Neil’s tongue. Neil held them all back until Deadpool’s cigarette was nothing but ash. 

“Why did you save those people today?” Neil asked, breaking the silence between them.

Deadpool exhaled heavily. Neil wondered if he would have to fight the answers out of him, even though he just did Deadpool the favour of preventing him from getting arrested.

“They didn’t need to die.”

It wasn’t a satisfying response, but Neil sensed it was all he would get on the topic.

“Okay...Who were those men? The ones chasing you?”

“Enforcers of my current employers.”

“Why were they trying to catch you?” Neil asked.

“That’s none of your business.” 

“Who did they send you to kill?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Neil growled in frustration.

“Stop dodging my questions! I saved your ass, you owe me,” Neil said.

“My debt to you is not infinite. I don’t need to give you everything you ask for,” Deadpool said cooly.

“You’ve barely given me anything!” Neil argued.

“Maybe you should ask better questions then.”

Neil took a deep breath. He should have known this wouldn’t be easy.

“Fine,” Neil snapped. “You’re a contract killer, supposedly a known mutant threat, and highly skilled fighter who is currently operating in New York. These facts lead me to believe that I should hand you your ass and deliver you straight to Mutant Control so they can lock you up.”

“I didn’t hear a question,” Deadpool drawled.

“And yet,” Neil continued, as if the other man hadn’t spoken, “you haven’t tried to kill me once. I could wave this point away by saying no one has paid you to, or I’m too much effort for you. But then you do things like help me rescue abducted women, and sacrifice yourself to save random tourists. It doesn’t add up.”

Deadpool waves his hand dismissively, “I’m still not hearing a question.”

“Here’s one. Do you only kill other criminals?”

The words hung in the air between them, heavier than the New York smog.

“I have no interest in those who haven’t harmed someone weaker than them,” Deadpool said carefully. “Your oblivious, ignorant, pure little citizens are safe from me.”

Neil took that as a yes.

“So you go around killing bad people to make money?” 

“I kill them because they deserve to die. Being paid for it is a bonus.”

Neil made a contemplative sound. Then without another word, he turned away and went to the edge of the roof. He peered down at the afternoon traffic, keeping an eye out for blue and red flashing lights.

“You should probably lay low for a while. Now that they know you’re here the cops will be sweeping the city for you.”

“What, you aren’t going to try to bring me to justice?” Deadpool scoffed. Though he hid it under layers of indifference, Neil still heard the note of surprise in his voice.

He had a right to be surprised by Neil’s lack of aggression. Throwing Deadpool behind bars was probably the right thing to do. But Neil had been sending scummy people to jail for years, and still more than half of them found their way back onto the streets. Lady Justice must be on extended vacation because none of those perps were brought to their knees in front of her.

No, Neil learned the hard way that state prisons and courthouses weren’t in the business of serving justice. One minute a notorious ganglord and serial killer was serving a life sentence, and the next day he was carving up his son in a bloodstained basement. Justice didn’t come from the system; it came in the form of a five millimeter bullet to the head.

“As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to bring you in for.” His words were harsh, reminiscent of a time before Neil had been bitten by a radioactive spider. They came from that dark part within him; the part that used to live in the house of a monster. How many times had Neil almost crossed that line? How many times had he wished to end the lives of those who had hurt him? Even now, when he arrived at a crime scene too late, the urge was there. Sometimes he would entertain the idea of breaking the neck of a murderer or rapist, instead of leaving their beat up body for the police.

He didn’t have the right to judge Deadpool.

“Just keep your knives and your bullets away from the innocent and we shouldn’t have a problem,” Neil said hollowly. He was done with this conversation.

“We’re similar.” Deadpool couldn’t know about the dark turn of Neil’s thoughts. He probably meant that they were similar in their drive to stand against crime through illegal vigilantism. But he was right on the mark regardless.

“More than you think,” Neil said in parting. He saluted Deadpool mockingly, mirroring the gesture Deadpool had done back at the warehouse.

The next moment he was swandiving over the edge of the roof, his body hurtling towards traffic. When Neil swung back into the air, he looked over his shoulder to the apartment roof, but Deadpool was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts!  
> Also you can find my personal tumblr [ here ](c-dragon-pirates.tumblr.com)  
> And my AFTG tumblr [ here ](thefoxycourt.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


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